


After Jimmy, Before Halloween

by blueteak



Category: Practical Magic (1998)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: Gillian's relieved the curse is broken. Really. However, broken curses don't solve everything.





	After Jimmy, Before Halloween

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



The curse was lifted. Did that mean that the Owens' crops were watered and their skin had cleared? Not quite, though the townspeople’s skin was a lot clearer now that they shopped more regularly at Verbena, and the Owens were now more or less certain that people would help them put out a fire at their house rather than show up with pitchforks to start one.

And, of course, Sally and Gary were head-over-heels and had even gone back to Arizona to meet Gary’s folks. Despite the fact that the only beetles they _wouldn’t_ have to worry about encountering on the trip were death beetles, Gillian couldn’t think of it as a pure bliss, “just engaged” road trip, evil spirit eradicating and suddenly accepting townsfolk notwithstanding. Though her sister had ensured she wasn’t marked as Jimmy’s possession by branding and had removed Jimmy’s spirit's possession of her body, the experience had nevertheless made a mark. A mark that all the chocolate for breakfast in the world couldn’t cure, even the kind laced with St. John’s Wort. 

Though she was certain there was nothing to fear and that her sister’s power and Gary’s training would keep them safe, Gillian made sure to press her tiger’s eye on Sally before they left, and cajoled the kids into making a protective pancake syrup for their mother and Gary. They had initially had their doubts about it, given what the last syrup had been for and their aunt's recent possession-by-murderer, but did it after the aunts gave the magic (and Gillian) the all-clear. 

The day after Gary and Sally drove out, Gillian found herself having chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast with Jet, Frances, Kylie and Antonia. Just the kids having breakfast with the aunts, a tale as old as the time since Maria and repeated through Olivia and Eva and Gertrude and Bethany and Elizabeth and Marion.... 

Only the coffee near her plate separated her from the kids, she felt. In her life thus far, she had been more parented than parenting, relying on Jet and Frances and even Sally to get her out of jams and so focused on her own issues that she had failed to see that Gary was Sally’s, a man with one green eye and one blue. And the bit about the star. Even the actual children in the family had reasoned that one out, and seemed to have lost a bit of trust for her, or trust that she could be relied on to have the right plan, because she hadn't. Clearly.

Gillian had been so lost in beating herself up about the past (not to mention pushing the last remaining piece of her pancake around so that it left equally chocolatey crumbles all along the rim of the plate) that she hadn’t noticed the aunts and kids clearing up around her. However, she certainly noticed the thunk of a large book landing on the table.

She glanced over at it. Not the spell book. It seemed the aunts weren’t going to try to spell her happy, beyond the herbal remedies they were already using. She was reluctant to see what was available in the spell line herself, at least for now. While the townspeople had seen and been part of curse breaking, evil spirit banishing magic (or, good magic), it hadn’t been her magic. Simply put, she didn’t trust herself at this point not to turn herself into a frog or banish herself back to colonial times or accidentally turn herself into a harpy rather than a happy person (not that there was anything wrong with harpies). 

Frances stepped closer, seemingly trying to discover how to pick up Gillian’s “pancake mush all around around the rim” plate without getting a sticky mess all over her gloves, then gave up and reached for the plate before throwing her hands up at the last second and directing the plate to the sink using magic. 

“You’d think I’d forgotten I’m a witch,” she said wryly. Gillian examined her aunt's tone for any indication that it was a dig at her, then kicked herself as soon as she realized it wasn’t. While the aunts had occasionally been passive aggressive about witchcraft with Sally, they hadn’t been with her. And that book on the table spelled a direct confrontation of some sort, though she couldn’t yet see what it was.

Now that she could no longer be distracted by pancake mush, the aunts sat, flanking her, and opened the book. Photos. Photos of Frances and Jet and their loves with Gillian and Sally’s parents. All those happy faces on the water, on the beach, at restaurants in town, at this very table, joyous and stubbornly set against future tragedy. 

Eyes welling, Gillian traced a finger over her parents’ faces. She and Sally were playing in a nearby dune behind them, blissfully unaware of Jimmy Angelov or the fate of their parents. Or Michael's. 

Frances and Jet said nothing at first, allowing her to reminisce and grieve and wonder what her parents would have made of the past few weeks. But when Gillian turned the page and found the pictures of Jet and Frances with men she had never met, they told her the stories. Not the stories of death beetles, but of night flights and sex on the beach under concealment charms (not to mention sand repelling charms) and cookouts and vacations. Of love that hadn’t died even when the people who’d inspired it had. 

Gillian found herself getting lost in the stories, longing for what she still felt she couldn’t have. Or couldn’t trust herself to have. She pulled herself back. “I haven’t seen many of these before and I appreciate you opening up to me,” she began. When Frances seemed about to speak, she continued. “But I’m not sure why you’re sharing them with me. Is it to show me you’ve all experienced loss? I know that, and I’m sorry for it, but have any of you ever had your sister have to step in and kill a guy twice, then find yourself possessed by him?”

“We have not, no,” Frances replied, eyebrow arched. “Unless Jet and your mother have a secret neither ever shared?”

Jet raised a brow suggestively, but then sobered when she realized that Gillian was not in a place to be jollied out of her mood, at least regarding this topic. “No,” she said. “This was unprecedented. And it was terrible, and you’re probably thinking ‘My sister turned her back on magic her whole life but broke this curse and found her true love and all I got was unpossessed by an abusive, miserable excuse for a human.’”

Okay. Jet was right. But---

Jet held her hand up. “I know. I know you’re also grateful for what Sally did. You can feel both gratitude and jealousy. It’s okay. But we showed you this album to let you know that if love was worth risking even under the curse, it’s even more with exploring now.”

Gillian snorted, an image of Jimmy and herself by the pool superimposing itself in her mind over the picture of her parents. “Oh, we’ve established that I’ve ‘loved’ quite a bit. I bet you never had to use molasses in a spell to get my legs open.”

As one, the aunts rolled their eyes, but it was Frances who spoke. “Please. You pretended you were more open than your sister, but you protected yourself by only being with people you could never actually love. Be in lust with? Oh yes. But love in an intimate way? In a flipping pancakes together after having the best sex of your life way? No.”

Well. Gillian couldn’t argue with that, but her silence seemed to concern Jet. 

“We’re not saying you need to run out and look for that person right away. Not until you’re ready. But you need to realize that you and Sally both demonstrated that you’re strong, resourceful, and loyal. It took both of you to break that curse, and you can both benefit. Even if you don’t ever want to settle down with someone, know that you make life better for all of us Owens women, past and future, and we all need and love you.”

Gillian’s eyes grew suspiciously wet again, and she turned back to the album, unable to verbally accept what the aunts were saying, but unable to deny it, either. 

The aunts sat with her for a time, looking at the photos with her and occasionally commenting. Frances eventually got up to get Gillian a mug of tea, but forgot to get sugar. She was just about to spell some over when it came whizzing by.

Gillian had absentmindedly called it over had set the spoon to stirring, all without taking her eyes off the album.

Exchanging a look, the aunts left Gillian to the book, confident that whether Gillian found a partner soon or not, she would be a part of happy family pictures in future albums.


End file.
